My Love
by Nixi Stasia
Summary: A little JaniceXMelina one-shot, inspired by Sia's "My Love". 'Gone? She couldn't be gone. Not Melina. Not her Melina.'


**I don't own Professor Layton, any of the characters, or any of the storylines- everything is owned by Level-5. This fanfiction is based off Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva and is my interpretation of an off-screen scene. This was also inspired by My Love by Sia, which I don't own.**

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My Love

Melina was gone.

That was all Janice could think as she stared down at her love's body, but no matter how many time she thought it, the words meant nothing to her. Her mind couldn't seem to process the one thought that kept repeating itself again and again. The thought flashed and pulsed, blurring out all other thoughts, desperate to be noticed, but it did no good. No matter how much the words screamed and shouted, no good came of it. Janice still did not- _could _not- believe that this had happened.

_Gone? _She couldn't be gone. Not Melina. Not _her _Melina. After all, she had been here just a moment ago. She'd been weak, but that was to be expected, wasn't it? After all, she was ill, sleep was what she needed. She'd just drifted off to sleep quickly, that was it, wasn't it? Yes. That had to be it. She couldn't go so quickly, not so suddenly, not so... not so... Soon.

It had barely been a fortnight since Janice and Melina had confessed their love for each other. And then there was nothing at _all _serious about her illness. The island was making her better. That was what the island was supposed to do, wasn't it? And it had, it _had _made her better. She'd slept less, more colour had appeared in her cheeks, her smile had been so much brighter. Her eyes... Her eyes had regained their sparkle.

Yes. Yes, she was asleep. That was all, she was asleep. There could not be a possible explanation for Melina to be gone. No one could be gone, not anyone, forever. Especially not _her _Melina.

However, her denial was beginning to prove as useless as the first thought had been. The thought 'Melina is gone' had now broken down the wall, which was blocking it from Janice's spectrum. Looking down at Melina's body, she knew that it was true. But still she could not react. She believed it, but she did not believe that she believed it.

Janice's mind began to fill up with memories and regrets, concentrating on them so tightly that she didn't notice tears begin to roll down her cheeks. Nor did she notice Mr Whistler, beside her, lying across his daughter's body, his hand stretched out as if he were trying to grab the pieces of her, as they went away. He was sobbing. Sobbing loudly. His face was pressed up against his daughter's side, but his cries were so loud, neither the blankets or Melina's body muffled the weeps.

Completely oblivious to the composer's distress, Janice remembered Melina. She remembered how things had been only several hours ago. She'd been happy; she'd been smiling; she'd been laughing! The both of them had (with at least one of them unaware of what was going to happen before the sunset that day).

They'd sat on Melina's bed, with Mr Whistler somewhere else in the castle, working on that contraption of his that he never seemed to leave alone (with the exception of the times he was with his daughter). Janice had held her hand against Melina's soft, pale cheek, feeling it move slightly, as Melina had breathed in and out.

"_I love you,"_ Janice had told Melina.

"_I love you, too_," Melina had replied.

It seemed it had happened barely less than a minute ago to Janice. She remembered every part of it so vividly.

The soft lapping of the waves against the sand from outside. The rustle of the leaves in the jungle, as the breeze flew through the foliage, singing a sing worthy of a lullaby. The calming sound of the gramophone playing Beethoven, from across the side of the room. The happiness in Melina's giggle and the honesty in her words.

The sight of the sun, shimmering over the treetops and into the room, where it had darting off the three mirrors in the room, scattering light. The large leaves from the canopy of the jungle, that had hung over the balcony, shading the room from too much of the sun. The soft smile on Melina's face as it glowed with radiance and the sparkle in her eyes as she laughed.

The soft breeze of the wind against her cheek. The damp air that had echoed throughout the room from the sea, irritating the uncovered skin on the back of her neck. The heat and weight from Melina's body, resting against her torso. The relaxing feeling of the music, as it travelled around the room, singing into Janice's ears.

The smell of the tangy, bitter salt from the sea and the over powering taste of it on her tongue- almost stinging. The pollen from the foliage, that had tickled Janice's nose. Melina had laughed, at Janice as she'd wrinkled her nose, flinching from the smell of the trees. Then, there was the scent of Melina. Sweet, subtle and content.

That was what Janice had to remember. She stood there for several seconds, looking at Melina's perished body, but seeing her smiling and laughing. Then, she blinked and reality flashed back into her, stabbing her with the truth.

Mr Whistler's agony eating her up, just as much as her own. She looked down at Melina and choked on a lump in her throat. The sight of her was painful. She was just as beautiful as she was before, but knowing that her eyes were not going to open, stung like an ice knife.

Her brown hair hung around her oval, ivory face like a veil and Janice reached down and touched it slightly. She shivered at the touch of her locks, but not out of fear or disgust, but knowing that Melina couldn't feel her touch. Reaching down further, Janice pressed a kiss to Melina's forehead.

"Sleep well, my love."

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**AN: Just another one of those drabbly Jelina one-shots that was rattling around my head. :)**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Review? **

**x  
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